


Everyone's a Damn Art Critic

by house_of_lantis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: Based on this prompt: I overheard you insulting one of my paintings at an exhibition and I got surprisingly upset, but then you noticed and looked so horrified and guilty, and now you’re being really apologetic and nice and we’re going for coffee tomorrow so I can “teach you more about art because you know nothing and are an asshole”.QUOTE CITATION: “Empires inevitably fall, and when they do, history judges them for the legacies they leave behind.” Quote by Noah Feldman, American author.





	Everyone's a Damn Art Critic

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally part of my Marvel one-shot fic collection (now deleted).

Tony slunk into the Knowles Gallery, following hot on the heels of Pepper, and hiding behind a pair of his purple Gucci sunglasses.

“Why are you punishing me, Pep? What on earth could I have possibly done for you to drag me to Brooklyn of all places? It’s Brooklyn.  _Brooklyn_ , Pepper!”

Pepper continued to ignore him, had been ignoring him during the entire ride in the limo, and she didn’t seem to plan communicating with him at all.

“Lila,” she called, cheerily, high heels tapping across the smooth marble main room to greet the beautiful woman with dark hair, artfully curled over her slender shoulder. “The showing is wonderful. Thank you so much for the invitation.”

“Pepper, so good of you to come,” Lila said, giving Pepper a little hug, air kisses to the cheeks.

Tony rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, glad that Pepper couldn’t see him.

“Mr. Stark is a fan of local Brooklyn artists,” Pepper said, turning to look at him over her shoulder. She gave him a ‘ _play along or you’re going to face a dozen boring meetings back-to-back for a year’_  glare in warning, so Tony sucked it up and plastered on his best public smile, reaching for Lila’s hand.

“Lovely as always, Ms. Knowles,” he said, casually kissing her knuckles.

Lila smirked and raised her eyebrow. “A pleasure, Mr. Stark.” She jerked her hand from Tony’s grasp and turned to look at Pepper. “We have a local artist by the name of Steve Rogers at the gallery tonight. He’s incredibly talented…not to mention incredibly handsome. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

“Yeah, maybe he’ll show you his etchings,” Tony said, under his breath.

Pepper’s look told him that she heard that; and Tony winced, moving quickly in the opposite direction, heading straight for the bar. He took a glass of champagne and started walking through the main open gallery space, looking at the various paintings and mixed media work.

“Christ, what is this mess?” Tony mumbled under his breath, squinting to look at the large canvas that seemed to be haphazardly glued together with crap found under someone’s couch. His financial sensibilities took a nose dive when he saw the sale price, a little blue dot by the title, indicating that it was sold. “Ten grand. Who the fuck would pay for this crap?”

He continued moving through the gallery, peering at each piece and sipping his champagne slowly. At least Knowles had enough sense to pay for the good champagne, even if her art gallery sold crap pieces of work.

“Local Brooklyn artists,” Tony muttered again, bypassing a couple who were more into each other than the art in the gallery. He didn’t begrudge them that; they probably were more interesting that the art anyway.

He rounded the corner and walked into a small gallery space; a small sign on the wall listed the art work in the alcove as belonging to a  _S. Rogers_. Tony walked into the new section and looked at the four paintings on the walls. They weren’t too horrible – better than that mixed media crap in the front room – and Tony took his time looking at the large canvases.

They were all cityscapes of Brooklyn with the bridge obviously a point of pride. The first painting was titled “First Year” and was painted in muted, neutral tones with hints of red and orange. The second painting was titled “Second Year” and Tony saw some changes to the skyline. This was in done in different shades and tones of oranges and golds and a bit of green.

The third painting was titled “Third Year” and Tony snorted, finishing off his champagne. “What the hell is this? Some college kid’s idea of art?”

He turned to look at the tall, handsome man wearing a modest dark blue suit, standing at the end of the room in front of the fourth and last painting in the series. Tony smiled, handing his empty glass to a nearby waiter, and put his hands into his pockets and wandered up to the man.

“I want to punch this artist in his perfect teeth,” Tony said, startling the other man.

“Oh, um…I’m probably going to regret asking, but why?”

“Because the alternative is that I’m going to have to gouge out my eyes looking at them,” he said, turning to look at the other man. Tony noted that he was even more handsome up close, even if the man was now glaring at him with narrowed, blue eyes.

“I…see,” he said, sarcastically.

Tony took his hand out of his pocket and held it out to him. “Tony Stark.”

The other man stared at him for a long time and finally took a deep breath, shaking his hand with an overly tight grip. “Steve.”

“Whoa, tiger, that’s quite a grip,” Tony said, pulling his hand away and smiling charmingly up at Steve. “You could really  _hurt_ a man with a tight grip like that.”

Steve gave him a befuddled look and clenched his jaw. “Are you enjoying the show, Mr. Stark?”

“Tony, call me Tony,” he said, cocking his head and letting his eyes move over Steve. “You know, you have some blue paint on your earlobe.”

He reached up to touch Steve’s ear, but his hand was swatted away.

 “What do you think you’re doing?” Steve said, frowning.

“Are you free for dinner? We could get out of this dump, head back into the city—“

Steve made a face; Tony thought it was still kind of handsome, even with the hard, displeased squint to Steve’s eyes. “Are you seriously asking me out on a date? And this place isn’t a dump, Mr. Stark—“

“—Tony.”

“—and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult people’s artwork,” he said, leaning closer towards Tony, his voice dropping into a deep register. It was starting to turn Tony on.

Tony laughed, throaty and low. “Come on, Steve, you can’t possibly defend this crap. Did you see the one out there that looks like something out of a kid’s junk drawer?” He waved his hand towards the painting they were standing in front of. “I mean, look at this one! It’s all in green and blue. Is the artist working his way through the rainbow? Did they only have six colors? I don’t get it.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious that you don’t get it at all,” Steve said, stepping back and glaring at him. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, hey, come on, handsome,” Tony said, putting his hand on Steve’s arm. Steve shoved his arm away with the palm of his hand. “If you want to see some real art, come back to my place. I’ll show you my private collection.” He grinned, seeing the interest on Steve’s face. Everyone in the art world knew about the Stark Collection; there were pieces that the public would never be able to see. “I have the most gorgeous Renoir in my bedroom and you would look stunning lying naked in my bed under—“

“Tony!” Pepper said, her tone full of chiding disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Rogers; I can’t think of anything to excuse Mr. Stark’s behavior.”

“Rogers?” Tony said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “You’re  _S. Rogers_?”

Lila stepped between them, turning Steve’s attention from Tony to Pepper. “Steve, this is Pepper Potts. I was just telling her about how your last collection was recently included at the  _Whitney Museum of American Art_ and—“

“Wait, you’re Steve  _Rogers_? The artist!”

“I saw your collection at  _The Whitney_  and I must admit that I’ve followed your work since your debut,” Pepper said, holding out her hand to Steve. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Tony watched the three of them making nice; he wasn’t going to just let this go. And he really didn’t like the way that Pepper was schmoozing up to Steve. Tony saw him first.

“Thank you, Ms. Potts,” Steve said, politely, shaking her hand. He smiled at her and Tony exhaled sharply; the man was too beautiful for his own good.

“Please, it’s Pepper,” she said, smiling at him, a soft blush forming on her cheeks.

“Are you  _blushing_?” Tony said, astonished. “Like a schoolgirl.”

Lila and Pepper continued to ignore him, but Tony caught Steve looking at Pepper, a blush forming on his cheeks, too.

“Your work is so—“

“Why didn’t you stop me from insulting your work!” Tony nearly shouted, trying to get back Steve’s attention.

All three of them stared at him.

“You insulted his work?” Pepper said, her lips pursing into a thin line. “Tony! What were you – why would you do that?”

Tony shrugged carelessly. “I absolutely do not know.”

Steve sighed, exchanging a look with Lila. “Ms. Potts – Pepper – it’s fine. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

“Steve, Pepper was just telling me that  _Stark Industries_  wanted to purchase the ‘Queer Brooklyn’ series,” Lila said, turning her back on Tony and nearly nudging him out of the way.

“I don’t know…” Steve murmured, eyeing Tony for a moment before turning his attention to Pepper.

“ _The Maria Stark Foundation_  recently started a new outreach program to help LGBTQ teens in need of shelter and support. Last year, we created 15 safe havens across the U.S. and we’re funded to create at least 100 safe havens over the course of the next five years. You’ve been a strong community advocate and we wanted to showcase your work in the lobby of the Foundation’s offices to support local artists who made significant contributions to our communities,” Pepper said, stepping closer to him and putting her slim hand on Steve’s arm. “It would really mean a lot to me if you’d consider the sale.”

Tony turned to look at the series of paintings again, recognizing the rainbow color scheme now. Each painting of the Brooklyn cityscape showed the changes over the decades, the buildings that rose and fell, with the Brooklyn Bridge a constant figure in the background.

“ _’Empires inevitably fall, and when they do, history judges them for the legacies they leave behind_ ,’” Tony murmured, turning to look up at Steve. “That’s what you painted, isn’t it? The history of the changing city, the changing times, but Brooklyn is always standing.”   

Steve blinked and nodded slowly. Even Lila and Pepper looked impressed.

Tony wanted to say that he wasn’t stupid; he was just an asshole sometimes.  

“My mother was a woman ahead of her time; her legacy is more important to me than my own,” Tony said, pulling off his purple sunglasses and giving Steve a small smile. “ _The Maria Stark Foundation_  would be very proud to show your work, Steve, if you’d allow it.”

Steve gave him a long look, seemingly trying to gauge what Tony was up to. He let out a soft sigh, a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. “On one condition.”

“Name it,” Pepper said, turning to give Tony a sharp look, one that said, ‘you better agree to anything Steve wants or else.’

“That Mr. Stark has lunch with me tomorrow so I can thoroughly educate him on modern, abstract art,” Steve said, meeting Tony’s eyes with a challenging look. “Mixed media art is rather genius in its own right. I think it requires deeper study and contemplation. Maybe Mr. Stark will have to start his own art journal in order to completely understand the philosophy behind it.”

Tony chuckled, sliding his sunglasses back on. “I’ll agree to that with one condition of my own.”

Pepper gave him a warning glare. “Tony…”

“That you drop this ‘Mr. Stark’ bullshit and call me Tony.”

“Done,” Steve said, a smile on his face.  _“Tony.”_

“Steve,” Tony murmured, winking at him.

“Noon tomorrow; Cataldo’s in Brooklyn.”

Tony sighed. “Brooklyn, huh? God, you’re going to take me to some mom and pop place, aren’t you?”

“That’s the condition of the sale,” Steve said, smiling.

“Done,” Tony said, holding out his hand.

Steve shook it; and while the grip was firm, it wasn’t as painfully tight.

Tony could see Lila and Pepper already conspiring, their beautiful heads close together as they hammered out the particulars of the sale. There was no doubt that Pepper could handle it and Tony walked to the center of the private space, looking at all four of the paintings as a set piece instead of as individual canvasses.

Steve watched him and then walked towards him. “Did you just say that because you wanted to buy the paintings or did you really understand my work?”

Tony took a deep breath and gave Steve a small grin. “Honestly, I think it was probably both.” He caught Steve’s surprised look. “But you were right; I didn’t get it at first. Not until I gave it a second look.”

“Well,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“It’s kind of genius,” Tony said, truthfully. “It’s a simple message, but there’s genius in simplicity.”

“Hmmm.”

“Still, can I make just one critical comment?”

“Go ahead, Tony.”

Tony cracked a smirk. “Tell me the truth, you could’ve done a better job with the titles, right? I mean, ‘ _First Year_ ,’ ‘ _Second Year_ ,’ come on, Steve. Were you reading ‘ _Harry Potter’_  when you gave your paintings those titles?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re an _asshole_ , Tony.”

Tony threw back his head and laughed.

 


End file.
